On Growing Up
by The Ace of Lungs
Summary: What if Batman were suddenly given the one thing he'd always wanted?


He was in the cave system below the house. It had taken some searching, but fortunately, a bit of half-remembered conversation had dropped into Alfred's head, and the hunch had paid off. The boy was sitting in the dark, leaning against a massive stalagmite. Alfred secured the lid on the canister of lemonade and approached him, ignoring the faint flutters and squeaks from high above.

"I didn't want to yell at him like that, Alfred," he said, without even looking up. The young master stared down at his hands. "It's...these hormones. My emotions have become too strong. I lost control."

Alfred nodded and produced a glass. "That is, unfortunately, a part of adolescence, Master Bruce." He inspected the glass and, satisfied with its cleanliness, filled it from the canister. "Of course, another part is coming to the realization that one's parents are only human after all." He proffered the drink. "Lemonade?"

Bruce reached out and took the glass from him, staring as though he'd just announced that black was white. "Are-are you saying that my father is wrong?"

Alfred carefully resealed the canister and flicked a speck of dust from his sleeve. "I shall put it this way," he said. "Perhaps, despite their efforts not to argue in front of you, you have occasionally overheard some of your parents' disagreements?"

Bruce nodded.

"Perhaps it might occur to you," Alfred continued, "that when two people disagree, they generally cannot both be right?"

The boy blinked. He stared into his lemonade for a moment, then took a swig, seeming as though his world had started to rock beneath him. Finally, he gave a brief nod. "You have a point," he said.

Alfred watched him closely. "It's good to love your parents, Master Bruce, but you needn't keep them on a pedestal. They love you, and they want what's best for you, but they are not infallible."

He waited. Bruce sat staring into the glass again, tapping one finger along its side. "Alfred," he said at last, "suppose I tell you that I-I had a dream, once-a nightmare, actually, in which they had both been murdered, and I grew up without them."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I dedicated my entire life to revenge-in my dream," Bruce continued. "I became a detective, so I could find criminals; a fighter, so I could punish them; a monster, so I could scare them. It was my whole life; it consumed me. Anyone else I cared about, I ended up losing-I learned to be suspicious of everyone and attached to no-one." He looked up, seeming to suddenly remember Alfred's presence. "In this dream, I mean," he finished. He took another sip of the lemonade.

"That does sound like quite a dreadful dream," Alfred agreed, keeping his face blank and his tone neutral.

Bruce stared at him for a while. "Alfred," he said, "have you ever thought about what you'd do-what you'd _really_ do-if you could go back and live your life over again? If, one day, something happened and you woke up in the body of your younger self, but with all the memories of what had been?"

Alfred met his stare. For a while, they watched each other in silence. "You always did strike us as being rather precocious," he said at last.

The boy relaxed and returned to his drink. "I guess I just don't really know what to do, now," he said. "All I want is to be a good son to them."

"And the way to do that," said Alfred, "is to simply be yourself, and to be the best you that you can be. As for now-" He stood, and extended a hand to the boy. "You need to come back to the house with me. Your mother is getting worried about you, and your father has something he would like to say. Please try not to be too shocked when he apologizes."

"I'll brace myself for it," said Bruce, letting the butler help him to his feet. He paused. "Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

He looked around, nervously. "Please don't tell them about this conversation, okay?"

Alfred thought for a bit, then nodded. "I shall keep it in confidence."

"Thank you," said Bruce. He looked around the cave one last time, then turned and followed Alfred out into the sunlight.

-Fin-


End file.
